I find that I don’t write when I am struggling. Perhaps I should be writing then most of all. But I don’t. I have this aversion to sharing my hurts. I paste a smile on and get on with it. But I want to write even when I feel nothing. The problem I see is that what I write is always the emotion. Sure, I write about sex or domination or lifestyle or relationship but for me it all boils down to what I feel.
Lately, I am caring for everyone. Going from care to care to care, I haven’t had any time to process the emotion…to feel. I’m in constant ‘go’ mode.
I’ve had some incredible sessions with Mr. D. I haven’t shared them. Partly because time slips away so fast and with my mind so full of details I don’t remember the full chain of events. I will tell you some parts. Mr. D made me strip naked and took me out in the backyard. He was naked too…which was nice and put me more at ease. He loves public display. Me, not so much. It makes me nervous. At least, that night it did. His yard backs up to a park and a street. Anyone walking by would have seen us because of the lights on the sidewalk. I took a deep breath and went outside as asked.
He pushed me up against the wall. Hard, cold stucco. I held myself out from the cold with my fingertips. He used the flogger to warm up my skin. Then he used a tiny rubber whip and boy does that little beast sting. I pressed my cheek to the cold wall and looked over to see the streetlight glowing in the dark. I shivered with trepidation and felt that shiver flow inside my belly. Funny to say this but I can’t remember being made to stand before during impact play. Something about the whole scene made that shiver of nervous energy fill my body. My legs were rubber, my breathing was really shallow. I had to force myself to breath deeply to calm down once I realized I was on the verge of hyperventilating.
It was quite an experience. Too many new things at once for me to pin down what triggered that reaction. I’m a nudist so I don’t think that was it though I was concerned about being caught. It may have been the cold or just purely standing during impact play which meant I couldn’t relax during the strikes. I’m not sure but every new experience gives me more information.
I was so relieved when Mr. D motioned me inside even though he used the stingy little paddle once he had me on the bed. That tormenting little device raises welts on my ass. I was feeling them afterwards. You know you’re into being a pain slut when you feel welts on your own skin and think, “whoa, that’s cool.”
Image from Pixabay through CC0 Public Domain